Through the Sands of Time
by amyxaphania
Summary: Harry, Ron and Hermione are about to set off on their hunt for the Horcruxes. When a strange old man turns up, and tells them that the only way for them to defeat Voldemort is to travel back in time, what will they do? ABANDONED
1. Prologue

**A/N: Welcome to my new story! This is going to be a multichapter story, following the events in HBP. If you read, please don't forget to leave a review.**

**Prologue – The Guardians of Time**

Arnos' footsteps echoed around the vast hall as he made his way down the stairs. Sunlight streamed through the high windows, casting dark shadows onto his wizened face, and he lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the glare.

As he looked across the vast room, with its rows upon rows of shelves, and the several hundred hourglasses that lined the walls, he sighed. He'd known for some time that this moment would come, that his people would have to intervene in the lives of the mortals. But now that the moment was here…well, he didn't know if he would be able to persuade the others that help was necessary.

He could see them all waiting for him at the front of the hall, seated around the white stone table, talking about something or other. They were not going to take his decision well.

"My friends," he called, and the faint murmuring stopped, several heads turning to look at him.

"You are late, Arnos," a silver haired man stood as Arnos took his place at the head of the table, "we have been waiting for you for many hours."

"Calm yourself, Arian. I was looking into the Pools of Time, and surely you know how easy it is to forget oneself when looking into their depths?"

The silver haired man sat down, a faint frown upon his face. "Well, Arnos? Why have you called us here? We have no meeting scheduled for many months."

"I know," Arnos sighed, "but there are things we need to discuss, things that cannot wait until the next meeting."

"What 'things' are these that you speak of?" boomed a younger looking man with red hair, "are these 'things' so important that you call me away from my well deserved rest?"

Arnos stared into the red haired man's eyes, "Yes, Bonarn, they are. For many months I have been looking into the Pools of Time, and I do not like what I see. I see death and destruction, and I fear that if we do not intervene, their world will be ruined."

"What concerns are these of ours?" asked Arian, "What passes in the mortal land bears no consequence on our lives."

"Bears no consequences on our lives? Surely _you_ of all people Arian, have seen the cracks appearing? What were small fissures a month ago have become great caverns! And it is _his_ fault! The one they call 'The Dark Lord'! _He_ interfered with the timelines, _he _created the rifts, and if _we_ do not intervene soon…" he trailed off, his eyes clouding over, before lowering his voice and glancing around at his peers, "I foresee grave danger for us."

"So what do you propose we do? We cannot fight their fights for them, we cannot act as their puppet masters…I see no way of helping them." Arian crossed his arms across his chest defiantly.

"We know his plans. We know the reason he moved through the timelines last month…we _can _help them Arian."

"Well I shall take no part in it! Whatever foolish plan you come up with is doomed to fail, I'm sure." Arian stood up suddenly, the wood of his chair scraping against the cold stone floor. "If anybody needs me, I'll be in the library." He turned, his white robes billowing behind him as he strode down the hall towards the marble staircase.

Arnos sighed. "Foolish man." He looked around the table at the others, "Well? Any of you care to join him?" Nobody moved. "Good. Now, there is a boy. I have been watching him on and off for several years; this boy seems to be the one _he _wants to kill above all others. And I learned last year that this boy has been fated to defeat 'The Dark Lord'. I intend to aid the boy in any way possible, I think I shall visit him soon, inform him of what he needs to do."

"I agree, we need to help them, Arnos, but do you not think that revealing our secrets to a mortal is dangerous?" The red haired man, Bonarn, spoke suddenly, "Think of the consequences if something were to go wrong! Who knows what this boy will do if we allow him to learn our secrets, to tread the paths of those who have lived and died before him?"

"I shall be there to give him all the guidance he needs. And he has faithful friends; they will be of great worth to him on this quest." Arnos looked around the table once more, his eyes resting on each of the men in turn. The youngest, Ranin, met his gaze with trust in his eyes, and Arnos knew he would have his support. Only Bonarn, and of course, Arian, seemed to show any opposition.

"I can not guarantee the success of this plan, my friends, but I see it as the only option available to us," he looked around the table once more, his eyes resting on Bonarn as he spoke, "tomorrow I must venture into the mortal lands and find this boy. He is our only hope."

&&&

**A/N: Thankyou for reading! Bear in mind that this is only the prologue, and therefore is quite short. Subsequent chapters will be a lot longer. Look out for Chapter One, it shouldn't be too long before I update.**


	2. Godric's Hollow

**A/N: So here we have chapter one. Nothing much happens in this chapter, but it's necessary for the rest of the plot. I hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter One – Godric's Hollow**

"The next train to arrive on Platform One will be the seven forty-five to Aberystwyth. That's Platform One for the seven forty-five train to Aberystwyth."

Harry stood up, and glanced over at Hermione who was putting a book back in her bag. Ron yawned and stretched, before he slung his backpack on his back, and looked down the platform at the approaching train.

"Why'd we have to leave so early anyway?" Ron grumbled, as the train screeched to a halt in front of them, "I'm bloody tired."

"Oh, Ron, stop moaning. You know why we had to leave so early. And anyway, it's your own fault for not going to sleep until two in the morning!" Hermione said, then pressed the button that opened the train doors.

"It was Bill's wedding! What did you want me to do, leave the party and go to sleep at half six?" Ron muttered under his breath.

The three clambered onto the train, and quickly found seats near the end of the carriage. It wasn't very crowded; there were a few businessmen in suits, a tired looking mother with a baby in a pushchair, and an elderly woman.

"Well I'm going to try and get some kip," Ron said, folding up his jacket and putting it behind his head, "how long will it take us to get there?"

"About three hours," Hermione answered, taking out her book once more, "I think we'll get there about elevenish."

Ron nodded, and closed his eyes. Soon after, the train pulled out of the station, with the conductor making an announcement over the tannoy wishing all passengers 'a safe and happy journey'.

Harry sighed, and leaned his head against the back of the chair. It was going to be a long ride – Hermione was engrossed in her book, and Ron was fast asleep. He found himself wishing that Ginny was with them; he'd be able to talk to her.

But then he remembered that he'd broken up with her, and that they hadn't really talked since. Yesterday morning, when Harry had arrived at The Burrow from the Dursley's, Ginny had been helping with the wedding preparations, and Harry had had no chance to speak to her.

It had been like that the whole day – people rushing around, Mrs Weasley panicking every time someone went near the three-tiered wedding cake in the kitchen, Fleur's Mother bursting into tears every few minutes – there had been no chance of Harry speaking to Ginny alone, even if he'd wanted to.

And he wasn't sure he wanted to. He didn't know if he'd be able to keep himself from taking back the words he'd said at Dumbledore's funeral, to stop himself revealing their plans. And so he'd tried to ignore her. It had been hard, especially when she'd walked down the aisle behind Fleur, in a pale gold dress that accentuated her figure beautifully. Harry remembered how his throat had gone dry, how his eyes had nearly fallen out of his head, and smiled.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice cut through his thoughts, and he looked up at her.

"What?" he replied.

"Do you know what we're going to do when we get there?" she bit her lip nervously, "I mean, when we get to Godric's Hollow, what are we going to do?"

Harry shrugged. "Find somewhere to stay the night, I suppose. I want to try and find my parents house."

"You know it might not be there?" she frowned, "We don't know if it was destroyed when, well, you know…" she trailed off.

"Yes, I know," Harry sighed, "but I need to check. What if we _do_ find something that will help us find the Horcruxes?"

Hermione nodded, and then turned back to her book.

Harry sighed, and resigned himself to the fact that the next three hours were going to pass very slowly.

&&&

"So how do we get from here to Godric's Hollow?" Ron asked, sounding far more alert than he had been earlier.

"I'm not too sure," Harry replied, "we don't really know exactly where Godric's Hollow is, just that it's somewhere near Cardigan Bay."

"We'll call a taxi," Hermione said decisively, "and just ask them to take us straight there."

Harry nodded, and went back inside Aberystwyth train station to find a payphone.

"It'd be much easier if we could just apparate there."

"How many times, Ron? If we apparate they'll be able to track us. And you know what the adults are like, they'll make us go straight back to The Burrow."

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

"Look, Ron," Hermione said, putting her hand on his arm, "if we're going to help Harry with this, you're going to have to learn to put up with things you might not normally have to. It's not going to be easy…in fact, this journey to Godric's Hollow will probably be the easiest part!"

A conflicting series of emotions passed over Ron's face, before he smiled, "You're right, as usual."

"Of course I am," Hermione said, with a humorous edge to her voice, "I _am_ a genius, after all."

They looked at each other for a few seconds, before bursting into incontrollable laughter.

"What's so funny?" Harry said, coming up behind them.

"Nothing," Hermione managed to gasp out, before calming down, slightly, "when will the taxi be here?"

"About ten minutes. And the bloke said it'll take about twenty minutes to get to Godric's Hollow."

"All right." Hermione said, her giggles subsiding.

"So what _was_ so funny, anyway?" Harry asked.

Neither of his friends said anything, choosing to answer his question with another bout of hysterical laughter.

Harry smiled. It was good they were laughing now. He felt that there wouldn't be many more opportunities in the near future.

&&&

"It's beautiful!" Hermione exclaimed, as she stepped out of the taxi, "Absolutely gorgeous!"

Harry paid the taxi driver, then turned to look at his surroundings. They were standing in a small, secluded village, enclosed by sloping cliffs, and a wide sandy beach. Jagged rocks broke through the blue sea, and the whitewashed houses put Harry in mind of a toy town.

"It's all right, I suppose," Ron said, then, "can we go get something to eat? I'm starving."

"You're always starving, Ron," Hermione replied, with a smile, "well, Harry? Shall we go and find somewhere to eat?"

"Sounds good to me," Harry replied, before glancing around him. A little way into the village he could see a pub, "how about over there?" He gestured to the pub, which was called _The Red Lion_.

They made their way over to the pub, passing a few people who looked at them curiously. An old man with a bushy white beard, who was sitting on a wooden stool outside a small house, glanced up from his newspaper.

"Afternoon," he said, his eyes resting on Harry, "I've not seen you around these parts before."

"Good afternoon," Hermione said politely, "we're just visiting. It's a beautiful village."

"That it is, my love, that it is," he made a gesture as though doffing an imaginary hat, and then looked back down at his newspaper.

&&&

_The Red Lion_ was a small pub, and the inside looked as though it hadn't ever seen sunlight. Intriguing knick-knacks lined the walls – there was a fishing net draped above the bar, several lobster-pots were set out in a line on a shelf over the large fireplace, and there were paintings of the village everywhere.

As they entered the pub, a bell jangled somewhere behind the bar, and soon after, a generously proportioned woman greeted them.

"Welcome, my dearies, welcome! Now, what can I get for you?"

"Food!" Ron replied, which earned him a glare from Hermione.

"We'd like to order some lunch, please," she said, as she elbowed him in the stomach.

"Certainly my love," the woman replied, as she led them over to a table near the window, "Now, how about I do you all a nice bowl of my special stew?"

"That would be excellent, thankyou," Hermione said, taking a seat and looking out of the window at the glorious view.

The woman scuttled off behind the bar, and Harry looked at his two friends.

"I wonder if she knows anything about where my parents lived?" he asked, "I mean, people like her have usually lived in the same place all their lives, haven't they?"

Ron nodded, before leaning back in his seat and stretching his legs out. "Well there's no harm in asking," he said, "I hope the food comes soon."

"Ron, do you ever think of anything other than food?" Hermione asked.

Ron opened his mouth to answer, but Hermione held up her hand and cut him off, "Never mind, I don't want to know," she bit her lip, "I'd be careful asking about your parents, Harry. We don't know who we're talking to."

Harry was about to answer when the woman came waddling back, a tray of steaming food in her arms.

"Here we are my loves," she said, setting the tray down on the worn wood of the table, and placing a bowl in front of each of them, "I hope you enjoy. I must say, it's nice to see some visitors 'roundabout these parts. We don't get nearly enough in little old Godric's Hollow, I can tell you."

"Why's that, Mrs…" Hermione trailed off, unsure of what to call the woman.

"Mrs Tew, my love. No, we don't get many visitors here, haven't for a long while. Must be coming up to, oh, sixteen years now since it happened."

Harry's eyes widened, and he almost choked on the piece of potato he was eating. It was almost sixteen years ago that Voldemort had killed his parents…

"What happened sixteen years ago?" He asked, having swallowed the potato.

Mrs Tew pulled across a chair from near the fireplace, and sat down at the end of their table.

"It was most peculiar," she began, leaning forwards with an eager look on her face, "Halloween 1981, it was. We were having our usual celebrations down here in the village, 'course, they don't happen now…anyway, it was a dreadful stormy night. We were having the annual Hallo'ween party, here in my pub, there was music and Old Joe – you might have seen him sitting outside his house – he'd organised apple bobbing and pumpkin carving for the _planta_. We were having a grand time, then Jack, that's my son, comes running in saying that there was something going on up on the cliff top." Mrs Tew paused, "Are you sure I'm not boring you, my loves?"

Harry shook his head, "Please, go on."

"All right then. But eat up!"

Harry looked down at his half-eaten stew, which he'd not touched since Mrs Tew began her story. Half-heartedly he picked up his fork and began to eat.

"Well, as I was saying, my son comes running in and says that he'd been out in the bay fishing, and a few hours ago, he'd seen some strange green lights, and some strange noises coming from the top of the cliff over there." She gestured out of the window, pointing at a rolling peak in the near distance, "But by the time he'd moored his boat, it had all gone quiet, and the flashing lights were gone too. That was when he'd come in here, to tell us all. Well, me and Old Joe and Jack we all went up to see what had gone on – Old Joe thought that it might have been smugglers. I told him not to be so daft; there'd been no smugglers 'round these parts since the 1930's! Anyway, when we got up to the hill, we saw a house, and what you've got to understand my loves, is that there hadn't been a house there before!" She paused, obviously expecting her audience to react in shock. When they didn't, she shifted in her chair, and carried on talking.

"So we went and looked at this house, me and Old Joe and Jack, and it was a right wreck. All broken furniture, bits and pieces everywhere. I can tell you, we were spooked – well you would be, wouldn't you? A house springing up out of nowhere, looking like it'd been done over by a burglar. My Jack and Old Joe were convinced it were ghosts. But me, I think it was witchcraft. Anyway, once the surrounding villages heard about it, they stopped visiting here. It's got a bit of a reputation around these parts, has Godric's Hollow, it's known as the 'ghost town'," Mrs Tew stood up, "well, I can't stand around yakking all day, these dishes won't wash themselves!" She gestured towards the empty bowls on the table, and then began to gather them up.

"How much do we owe you, Mrs Tew?" Hermione asked, looking in her bag for her purse.

"Nine fifty, my love," She replied, "I'll just go and put these in the kitchen."

When she had waddled off into the kitchen, Harry leaned over towards Ron and Hermione.

"So how about it? Shall we go and see if the house is still there?"

"Yeah," Ron replied, "we might as well."

Mrs Tew returned moments later, and Hermione paid her.

"What are you planning to do now, my loves?" She asked, "It's a lovely day."

"We were thinking of going for a walk," Hermione said, ambiguously, "take a look around this beautiful village."

Mrs Tew smiled, "Well have a nice day. If you get peckish again, you know where to come!"

"Thankyou for the food, it was excellent." Harry nodded at the plump landlady, and left the dingy insides of the pub, blinking as the bright sunlight assaulted his eyes, and his mind whirling over all that Mrs Tew had said.

&&&

"It's too bloody hot to be going on a bloody hike up a bloody cliff!" Ron grumbled, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

Hermione strode ahead, "We're not hiking, Ron. And besides, it's a lovely day, and we're in a beautiful country. Stop moaning."

Harry grinned at the sound of his friends bickering, and wondered _just_ how much further it was to the cliff top. The way up to the top consisted of a path through a small wood, broken occasionally by stretches of green grass.

"From down there it didn't look this far!" Ron said, "And what's with all the sheep? They keep getting in my way!"

"The sheep can't help that, they probably think _you're_ getting in their way."

"Yeah, yeah," Ron stopped suddenly, looking out towards the sea, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand, "look at that big black cloud over there, looks like it's going to rain. That'll be all we need – we'll get to the top of this bloody mountain, then it'll start pouring down."

Harry looked out at the sea, and saw that Ron was right; an angry looking black cloud was cresting the horizon.

"Well we'd better hurry up then," Harry said, "so we can get up there and back again before it starts raining."

They moved off quickly, making the last part of the walk the quickest. When they reached the top of the cliff, and stepped out of the wood, Harry shivered as he noticed the sudden drop in temperature. The black cloud had moved over the land, and blocked out the sun.

He looked around, the cliff top, expecting to see the house straightaway. But there was nothing there.

"Where is it?" Ron asked, peering around. There was a chill in the air now, and he put his jacket on.

"I dunno," Harry said quietly, hoping against hope that there would be something here. Something that would show him where his parents had lived, where _he_ had lived for a year of his life. But there was nothing, the cliff stretched out for miles in the opposite direction of the village, dotted only by sheep and trees.

Whilst Harry and Ron had been gazing around them aimlessly, Hermione had been walking around the cliff top, and Harry was roused from his thoughts by her voice calling their names.

"Harry! Ron! Come over here!"

They rushed over to where she was standing, quite a way off from the cliff edge.

"What?" Harry asked, when they reached her.

Hermione's eyes were shining with excitement, "Harry, I think this is where the house was!" She pointed at the ground, and Harry could make out what looked like stone, and bricks, though they were almost completely covered by the undergrowth. He could also see that the grass was a slightly different colour in the area Hermione was gesturing at.

"I think you may be right," Harry said, "but for the house to have completely disappeared? I would have thought it'd still be here, a little rundown maybe, but not entirely gone!"

"Well maybe the villagers did something?" Ron put in, "You heard what Mrs Tew said, people were afraid of this place – they may have destroyed it out of fear."

"I guess," Harry sighed, "come on, there's nothing here. We may as well get back down to the village before it starts raining."

They began to make their way back to the path, when Harry felt several fat drops of rain spatter his back.

"I think you spoke too soon." Ron said, chuckling.

&&&

"Hello again, my loves," Mrs Tew smiled up at them, as they entered the warm interior of _The Red Lion_ once more, "did you have a nice walk? Pity it started raining."

"Hello Mrs Tew," Harry said, "I don't suppose there's anywhere we can stay overnight around here, is there?"

"Why, here, of course! I've only got one guest at the moment, and he's gone to visit his Ma in Aberystwyth so you'll have the run of the place."

"That'd be great," Harry smiled, before deciding to ask about the house, "we went for a walk to the cliff top," he began, "we thought we'd take a look at the 'ghost house'-"

"Oh, didn't I say before?" Mrs Tew interrupted him, "what was left of the house was completely destroyed back in 1987. I don't suppose you'll remember those terrible storms we had back then? Well the ghost house was destroyed. The council had to come and take away all the bits of brick and stone that were left behind."

"Oh," Harry said, feeling slightly disheartened, and was about to say something else when the talkative landlady interrupted him once more.

"Now, how about I show you to your rooms? Then we'll see about getting you some supper." She bustled off towards a staircase near the back of the pub, and motioned for them to follow her.

&&&

The next morning dawned bright and clear, and after a breakfast of bacon, eggs, sausages and baked beans, cooked by the ever helpful Mrs Tew, they collected their things together and left _The Red Lion._

"Let's go for a walk along the beach before we leave," Hermione said, "it's such a beautiful place, it'll be a shame to go without looking at everything."

Harry nodded, and soon they were stepping onto the wet seashore, their shoes getting sucked into the sand with every step they took.

"So now what?" Ron asked.

"I don't know," Harry said slowly, as they walked along the road, "I thought for sure we'd find something useful here."

"I _did_ tell you we might not find anything!" Hermione said, "That it was unlikely there would be anything of any use to us."

Harry frowned, "Well I wanted to check anyway. If there had been something here, and we'd not come and looked…" he trailed off and stared out into the sea, small waves lapping on the shore. "I don't see where we can go from here though," he stood up and began pacing across the sand, "how are _we_ supposed to know where to look for the Horcruxes? Where do we even start? I mean-"

Quite suddenly, the calm voice of an old man came from behind them.

"You will find that it is futile to search for the Horcruxes in this lifetime. _He_ has made sure they are well hidden."

**A/N: Thanks for reading, and if you enjoyed, please review!**


	3. The Pools of Time

**A/N: I'm so sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out! I've become super involved in a fantastic website, The Hogwarts Experience (link in my profile), and it's taken a lot of my time. But anyway, here it is, the second chapter.**

**Chapter Two – The Pools of Time**

Harry whirled around at the sound of the voice, to see an old man with strange amber eyes, clad in a long white robe, sitting on a rock behind them. Harry whipped out his wand and pointed it at the man. From out the corner of his eye, he could see Ron and Hermione standing up and doing the same.

"Who are you?" Harry asked loudly, his voice steady and clear, "What do you want?"

"My name is Arnos, and I am here to assist you. I mean no harm." He put his hands out in front of him, palms facing outwards, perhaps to placate or to show that he was unarmed.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, his wand still pointed at Arnos, "What do you know about the Horcruxes?"

Arnos took a step forward; arms still outstretched, and smiled, "I know a lot more than you do, Harry Potter. I think it would be best for you to lower your wand."

Harry paid his last comment no heed, but the hard expression on his face wavered slightly, "Who exactly are you?"

"As I said before, my name is Arnos. I am one of the Guardians of Time," he paused, and smiled again, "in fact, I'm the head of the Guardians of Time. And as I have already said, I am here to help you with your quest for the Horcruxes."

"You can't be a Guardian of Time," Hermione said, her voice shaking slightly, "they're a legend, a myth! They don't exist, they're not real!"

Arnos chuckled, "Oh, I can assure you, Hermione Granger, that I am very real indeed. Now, shall we go somewhere a little less public? Anyone could hear us talking here."

Harry was still not convinced that they should trust this stranger. For all they knew, he could be working for Voldemort, and this could be a trap.

"How do we know we can trust you?" he asked, "How do we know you're not working for Voldemort?"

"I can give you no other guarantee than my word, and the word of a Time Guardian is a guarantee in itself."

Harry frowned, but didn't have a chance to reply, as Arnos was striding towards them.

"Well then," he said, "shall we go? I think it best that we return to the time room, we'll have less chance of being overheard there," he sighed, "although Arian might put in an appearance. Always interfering, that man."

Harry frowned, and opened his mouth to say something, but before he had the chance, he felt himself knocked off his feet, and a strange swooping sensation in his stomach, and a rushing in his ears, that seemed to go on forever. Suddenly, it stopped, and he landed with a bump onto a hard floor. Opening his eyes, he looked around to see they were sitting on the marble floor of a vast hall, hourglasses lining the walls, and shelves upon shelves containing what looked like panes of glass.

Ron and Hermione were standing next to him, looking shaken, and Arnos was standing a little way away, watching them.

"Why did you do that?" Harry asked, half shouting at the old man.

"As I said, I have brought you here to help you. Now, welcome to the Time Room!" he said, "Follow me, and I'll explain things properly to you." He began walking down the centre aisle, towards a round, white table at the other end of the hall.

Harry narrowed his eyes, but began to follow Arnos to the table, where he took a seat at the head, and motioned for them to sit down. Harry glanced at his friends. Ron had a bemused look on his face, as though he couldn't quite believe what was going on, but was perfectly content to let it happen. Hermione on the other hand, looked positively bewildered. She kept glancing around at the immense hall, her eyes occasionally resting on Arnos, before moving to look at the great high windows, through which warm orange sunlight pored, then looking down at her hands, before beginning the cycle once again.

"All right, Hermione?" Harry asked, a little concerned for his friend.

She looked up at him, and answered, sounding slightly short of breath, "Yes, yes, I'm fine. A little amazed," she paused and looked at their surroundings once more, "I mean, I've read about this place, but it was always said to be a legend, to actually _be_ here – well, it's a little mind boggling!"

Arnos must have been listening, because he laughed loudly.

"If you think this is mind boggling, wait until I tell you the reason I have brought you here!"

"Why have you brought us here?" Ron asked, speaking for the first time, "It's something to do with Voldemort, but what?"

"Well, Ronald Weasley, I have brought you here to assist you on your search for _his _Horcruxes. I know-"

"You said we won't find them in this 'lifetime'," Hermione interrupted, "what do you mean?"

"I shall tell you all within due course, Hermione," Arnos replied, "but I think it best if I start from the beginning. There will be less confusion that way."

Hermione nodded. Harry sat back in his chair, he had a feeling that this story of Arnos' would take a while to tell.

"We do many things here, the Guardian's of Time," Arnos began, "and one of those things is to watch over the timelines of the many planets in the solar system. Of course, the planet Earth is of particular interest, as it is the only one to be inhabited by intelligent life forms. Now, several months ago, I noticed a shift in the timelines. A small shift, to be sure, but it was there. Things that had not happened before, were now happening. People that had not been before, were now alive. Of course, things like this have happened before – people messing with the timelines, using timeturners and the like." He paused, and glanced across at Hermione, who reddened slightly.

"My using a timeturner in third year, did you know about that?" she asked.

"Yes," Arnos smiled, "we had to watch over your timeline quite closely that year. But back to the story. This alteration in the timeline seemed…strange. When people have used timeturners in the past, the alteration is slight, nothing untoward occurs. But this time, it was as though a dark cloud had settled on the timelines, as though a malevolent creature had wormed its way in, and was intent on wreaking destruction. Cracks began to appear, and they soon became great fissures. I was worried, and so delved deeper, spending hours gazing into the pools of time. Soon, I found the cause. A man, named Voldemort, had been meddling with time, using evil methods to travel back and forth."

Harry heard Hermione let out a gasp of surprise, and he felt himself beginning to understand what Arnos had meant earlier, when he'd told them the Horcruxes were not to be found in their lifetime. Had Voldemort taken the remaining pieces of his soul and scattered them across time? It seemed unthinkable…the work of a madman. And then Harry remembered that Voldemort _was_ mad, and a feeling of dread began to seep through him.

"I then began to investigate this man, look back at his history, and discovered that he _was_ evil, that he _is _evil. And then I found out just _why_ he'd been travelling through the timelines. He'd been depositing pieces of his soul throughout history…without a care! That was the moment I realised he was truly mad, the moment I knew I'd have to seek help from the one who is destined to defeat him." Arnos levelled his gaze at Harry.

"Me." Harry stated simply, shocked by what Arnos was telling him, and dreading what he had yet to say.

"But wait a minute," Hermione said, "how did Voldemort know we were going to be looking for the Horcruxes? I mean, he's been back for two years now, and done nothing about them. Why now? Did he find out that Dumbledore and Harry were looking for them?"

"Must've done," Ron said, "but what are we supposed to do about this? _We_ can't exactly go travelling through time looking for Horcruxes." He snorted, then saw the expression on Arnos' face. "We are, aren't we? Typical."

"That is what I intend you to do, yes," Arnos said, then abruptly stood up from his chair. "Follow me, and I'll show you the travelling room."

&&&

Harry had never seen a more curious looking room. It was octagonal, with what looked like a deep well in the centre, filled with swirling mists of all colours: purples and blues, yellows and reds, greens and oranges.

There was a large doorway on one of the eight faces, highly polished wood set in a marble surround. On another of the faces there was a glass cabinet, the contents of which were hidden by a glaring light.

"These are the Pools of Time," Arnos said, "it is from here we are able to look into the timelines, to uncover the secrets of the past. And it is from here we travel through time."

He strode over to the cabinet, and laid a hand on the glass. With a soft click, the door swung open, and Harry, Ron and Hermione were able to see what was inside. There were four white silk pillows on a shelf, and upon each lay a delicate silver necklace, with a pendant that looked like a miniature Pool of Time – a small glass drop filled with colourful mists.

"They're beautiful," Hermione breathed, surprising Harry slightly. Hermione was not normally given to flights of fancy, though he could see the appeal in the necklaces. There was something…enticing about them; his eyes were drawn to the glass ball unwillingly.

"Yes they are," Arnos said, "they are also very powerful. We use these to travel through time. They are what you shall be using."

"But there are four of them," Ron said, absentmindedly reaching out as though to touch one of the necklaces, "and only three of us."

"Don't touch!" Arnos snapped, and Ron withdrew his hand as though he had been scalded. "And a very astute observation Ron. Yes there are three of you, but four will need to travel through time."

"Are you coming with us then?" Hermione said.

"No," Arnos replied, "you need to do this without my help. It shall be up to you who you take as your fourth companion. Make sure that it is someone you trust implicitly, someone with whom you would entrust your life." Arnos levelled his gaze upon each of them in turn. "This will be dangerous, and there is no guarantee you will succeed, but I ask that you try. I shall return you to Godric's Hollow now, and come for you in a week's time. I'll explain what you have to do more fully then. By that time, you will need to have found a fourth person – and be ready."

Like before, Harry opened his mouth to say something, but was once again cut off, the strange sensation in his stomach and ears returning. With a soft thump, he landed on the coarse sand of the beach in Godric's Hollow, and opened his eyes, seeing Ron and Hermione a few feet away.

Standing up, he walked over to them, and immediately saw the expression on both of his friends faces. He knew what they were thinking. Hermione began to say something, but he interrupted, pre-empting her speech.

"No."

"But Harry-"

"No. She's not coming. I won't have her involved."

"Who else is it going to be then?" Hermione said, now standing, her eyes flashing, "Remus? How would he deal with his transformations? Or maybe Tonks? You know how clumsy she is! There's no one else it can be!"

"I don't want her to get hurt! You heard what Arnos said – this is going to be dangerous. And I don't want to put her in danger because of me."

"I don't like this either, Harry," Ron said, "but Ginny is realistically the only person we can take with us. And to be fair, it's not really your choice. When we get back, we'll tell her and let her make her own decision."

Harry frowned. He didn't want Ginny to go with them. He wanted her to stay behind, where she was safe…away from him. But it looked like he was outvoted. And he somehow knew that no matter what he said, Ginny would end up going with them anyway.

&&&

The time spent on the train journey back seemed interminable. Harry's mind was a multitude of thoughts. Bewilderment, confusion and uncertainty at the forefront. For some reason, he felt a little foolish. Just that morning, they'd been travelling this very same train line to Wales, unsure of their plans, not knowing what they were going to do, envisioning that they were going to be away for days, weeks, perhaps even months.

But now, they were on their way back to The Burrow, having been gone a mere fifteen hours. He could see the faces of the others when they got back…Mrs Weasley would be angry with them, but glad of their return. Fred and George would be mocking, making fun of their 'adventure'.

At Birmingham New Street station, they changed trains for the eight-forty to Newton Abbot, which would take them near to Ottery St. Catchpole.

This train journey passed relatively quickly, mainly due to the fact that they slept most of the way. It was dark when they reached the village, the air sharp and crisp as they walked the short way to The Burrow.

Harry could sense something was wrong even before they turned the corner into the driveway of the Weasley's home. He could see smoke in the air, and there was the acrid smell of burning in the atmosphere.

He exchanged a worried glance with Ron and Hermione, then as one, as though they had read each others minds, all three broke out into a run for the last few feet.

The sight that met their eyes was shocking. The Burrow, once tall and proud (if a little run down), was now a shell of its former self, caved in. The few walls that were left standing were burned and charred, the surrounding ground sooty and filled with rubble.

Eyes wide, Harry looked around. He could see melted kitchen items and scorched clothes scattered across the garden. On the grass in front of the house there were several singe marks – evidence of a duel.

A feeling of dread began to seep through Harry. He could envisage what had happened…a group of masked death eaters had apparated in, taken the still sleeping household unawares…they'd duelled…and then…what?

Where was everyone? He tried to speak to Ron and Hermione but found he had nothing to say. Looking at them, he could see the same expression of shock and outrage on their faces that was on his own.

He watched Ron swallow a couple of times, and then the tall red-head spoke, his voice slightly hoarse.

"What the hell happened here?"

&&&

**A/N: Thanks for reading, please review!**


	4. Passing the Hours

A/N: Hi everyone, sorry for the wait in getting this up, but you'll be glad to know it's here now. Enjoy!

**Chapter Three – Passing the Hours**

"Don't move!" A loud voice made Harry jump in surprise, and he span around, wand outstretched in the direction it had come from. "I said don't move!" A shadowy figure emerged from the rubble of the house, and stepped into the light coming from the end of Hermione's wand.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he saw that it was Remus.

"Professor," he said, and was about to add something more but was cut off by the greying werewolf.

"Where the hell have you three been?" Remus had moved to stand directly in front of them, and his eyes were ablaze with anger. "We've been worried sick! Molly, Arthur and Ginny were woken up this morning by a dozen or so Death Eaters popping into the garden! And then when we arrived and found you gone…well you can imagine!"

Harry swallowed. He'd never seen Remus look so angry; the usually calm and serene man was nearly apoplectic with rage.

"What were you thinking, going off like that?" Remus didn't stop to let them answer, "Were you even thinking?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Remus held up his hand.

"Save it, Harry," he said, "let's just get to Grimmauld Place." Remus held out a picture frame, which they all touched, and with an uncomfortable jerk in his navel, Harry felt them being transported to Sirius' old house.

&&&

Breakfast at Grimmauld Place the following morning was a silent affair. Mrs Weasley gave them steely glares as she banged plates loaded with eggs, bacon and sausages in front of them.

When they had arrived last night, they'd found a hysterical Mrs Weasley and a worried looking Ginny sitting in the living room. At first, Mrs Weasley had descended upon them with hugs, then she'd stepped back and thoroughly told them off.

If it had been anyone other than Mrs Weasley, Harry would have told them to mind their own business, that they were legally adults and could do what they wanted. But because it was Mrs Weasley, he held his tongue. Ginny had just looked at them accusingly, and Harry had found it difficult to meet her gaze.

He'd gone to bed feeling guilty about their day away, but also determined to go through with Arnos' request. Having seen the destruction wreaked upon The Burrow, he needed to do everything in his power to stop Voldemort, and quickly.

And now, eating breakfast, Mrs Weasley was still angry with them, and Ginny hadn't said a word since she'd arrived in the kitchen five minutes beforehand.

Harry finished his breakfast in silence, and carried his plate to the sink where Mrs Weasley was washing up. He cleared his throat, and then spoke in a low voice.

"Mrs Weasley, I want to apologise for going off yesterday without telling anybody."

Mrs Weasley didn't say anything, but the small smile she gave him let him know everything was all right.

&&&

Later in the day, Harry, Ron and Hermione were in a room upstairs, which was lined with musty books. Harry supposed it would have served as some sort of library for the prior inhabitants of the house.

Hermione was reading a book she'd found on one of the shelves, and Harry and Ron were concentrating on a particularly fierce game of chess.

Harry was just about to make a crucial move when the door to the room swung open and slammed shut. It was Ginny, and she didn't look happy.

"I can't believe you left without telling me!" she said, striding over and sitting on the sofa next to Hermione, who'd closed her book.

Ron groaned, "Not you as well Gin! We've been getting it in the ear all day from Mum and Professor Lupin."

"I just can't understand why you didn't tell me at least, even if I'm not allowed to go with you," she frowned, "surely you trust me?"

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance.

"It's not that we didn't trust you Ginny," Ron began, and was about to say more when Ginny cut him off.

"It's that you don't want me to get hurt, yeah, yeah, I know."

Harry frowned. She sounded resigned, defeated almost, and he knew he needed to explain everything to her.

"Gin," he said, and she looked up, surprised that he was addressing her after so many weeks of not speaking, "I think I need to tell you everything." he paused and cast a silencing charm on the room, and a locking charm on the door.

"Remember when we went to the Ministry?"

Ginny sighed. "How could I forget?"

"Well, you know how we thought the prophecy Voldemort was after got destroyed? Turns out Dumbledore had a record of it stored in his pensieve, and after the battle, he showed me."

"What did it say?" Ginny asked.

Harry smiled wryly, and proceeded to tell her everything he'd been keeping from her for the last year.

He told her about the prophecy and that he was the only one able to defeat Voldemort. He told her about the Horcruxes and how he'd gone with Dumbledore to try and find one of them. And then he told her about the extraordinary events of yesterday, and the journey that Arnos wanted them to undertake.

It was only when he stopped talking did he realise that Ginny had gone pale, and she was shaking slightly. But there was a determined look on her face; almost like the one she'd had before he'd kissed her after the Quidditch match.

"That-" she began, her voice shaky but strong, "that's a lot to take in. I'm going to need a moment…"

Harry nodded and glanced at Ron and Hermione, who also looked very pale. Harry frowned - none of this was new to them.

"All right?" He asked.

"Yeah," Ron replied, "it's just hearing you say _everything_ like that…shook me a little bit."

Hermione nodded, agreeing with him.

"So let me get this straight," Ginny said, suddenly, "Voldemort has split his soul into seven pieces, six of which are hidden in things called Horcruxes, right?"

Harry nodded, "Right."

"And this Arnos bloke, he tells you Voldemort has hidden his pieces of soul throughout time and wants you three to go and get them?"

"That's about the long and short of it," Ron said, "but-"

"But," Harry interrupted, "we need you to come with us."

Ginny looked both shocked and slightly worried, and then she grinned.

"Great! When do we leave?"

They all looked at each other before bursting into laughter.

&&&

The next day, Mrs Weasley decided the house needed cleaning, and delegated the four teenagers to clean the drawing room. Over the past two years, it had accumulated a lot of dust, and it needed a thorough scouring.

Ginny, who was dusting the large cabinet, and polishing the items on the shelves within, suddenly let out a loud exclamation.

"The locket!" She said, eyes wide and excited. The others turned, puzzled looks on their faces, and she continued speaking, "Harry, you said the Horcrux you went looking for with Dumbledore was a locket, right?"

"Yeah, but the one we found was a fake."

"Yes. Do you remember when we cleaned this room before? We found a locket and none of us could open it, so we just left it in the cabinet." Ginny said all of this in a rush, her eyes wide and excited.

Hermione frowned, and began muttering to herself. "RAB…no…could be…Harry, did Sirius ever say what his brother's middle name was?"

"Regulus? No, why?" He asked, and then a look of dawning realisation crossed his face. "You don't think…Regulus _A_ Black…?"

"That's exactly what I think," Hermione began, "he could have replaced the locket with a fake and brought the real one back here, to secrete in his mother's house."

Whilst Hermione was speaking, Ron had been looking through the cupboards and drawers of the cabinet.

"There's nothing here though," Ron said, "at least, as far as I can see."

Harry, Ginny and Hermione went over to the cabinet and looked through it, and soon found out that what Ron had said was true: the locket wasn't there.

Harry frowned, feeling disappointed, though he shouldn't have expected it to be there. Arnos had said _all_ of Voldemort's Horcruxes were hidden through time…but then, if the locket that had been here two years ago _was_ the Horcrux, how did it get back into Voldemort's possession?

He voiced his thoughts to the others, and he could see Hermione, ever the thinker, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. But in the end, it was Ginny who realised that Mundungus Fletcher had stolen a lot of valuable items from Grimmauld Place, and what thief could have resisted the lure of a golden locket?

&&&

As the week wore on, Harry began to get restless. There was nothing to do at Grimmauld Place once the cleaning had been finished. The adults still treated them as though they were children, and several Order meetings had taken place that none of them had been allowed to attend.

Now that there was a plan, a light at the end of the tunnel, Harry wanted to get started, and wondered why, if it was so urgent, Arnos had left them for a week.

Hermione had ensconced herself in the library room for most of the time, reading a book she had found there, entitled "_The Legend of the Time Guardians"_. Every so often she would exclaim over one of the points made in the book, and make a note on a sheet of parchment.

Harry had noticed that Ron often sat with her in the library, reading books on defence. Ginny was often roped into chores set by her Mother – making cups of tea, baking scones, doing the washing up.

And Harry was very much left to his own devices. He split his time between the library, reading defence books, and lying on his bed, thinking.

He couldn't say all that he thought about in those interminable hours. He thought about Arnos, and what he wanted of them. He allowed himself to speculate the different eras they'd travel to – would they see the ancient Greeks and the legends surrounding them? Or maybe they'd visit the times of Henry the Eighth and his six wives.

He still wasn't entirely sure of how this time travelling thing would work. He knew the necklaces Arnos had showed them played some part in it, but apart from that, he had no clue.

And how would they know what was a Horcrux, and how to destroy it? How much time would they have in each point in history? He wished he'd asked these questions when they'd been in The Time Room.

He also thought about Remus. He'd not spoken to him since he'd brought them back to Grimmauld Place. Closing his eyes, he remembered the anger Remus had shown, but most of all, he remembered the disappointment in his eyes.

Harry let out an angry growling noise, feeling annoyed that Remus was disappointed in them – they had to do this – and at the same time, ashamed that he'd made his former professor so angry with him.

Pushing Remus out of his mind, Harry let his mind wander to the person he thought about most often during those long hours spent in his room. Ginny.

After they'd spent the day cleaning the house, and discovered that the locket was nowhere to be seen, he'd not spent much time with Ginny. He couldn't say if he was avoiding her, or the other way around, but the fact was, they'd not spoken since.

Somehow, he was glad that she was coming with them on their journey through time, but at the same time he wished she wasn't. He'd rather she be kept safe here than with them…but then again, she'd have been safer with them when they'd visited Godric's Hollow. He just wanted to keep her away from harm, after all, that had been the reason he'd broken up with her.

This was another thing he couldn't stop thinking about. Had he made the right decision, breaking up with her? How did she feel towards him now? She'd been nothing but courteous at mealtimes, but did not go out of her way to talk to him. How did he feel about her? He knew he still cared for her…more than that, but what could he do about it?

Sighing, he rolled over and punched the pillow a couple of times, trying to make it more comfortable.

Dwelling on these thoughts wasn't going to make anything better, but with three days left until Arnos would come for them, what else was there to do?

&&&

"I think we should leave a note." Hermione said seriously, closing her book all of a sudden and setting it down next to her on the settee.

"What?" Harry said, absorbed in the book he'd been reading. For once, they were all in the library; Ron and Ginny were playing a game of chess.

"For Mr and Mrs Weasley and Professor Lupin," Hermione replied, "a note telling them where we've gone."

"I don't think we should tell them _exactly_ where we're going," Ron said, "just that we _are_ going."

"What do you think we should take with us?" Ginny said. "I've been wondering about this for a couple of days…I mean do we need to take clothes? Food? How long are we going to be gone for?

Hermione sighed, "I should have asked Arnos these things when we were there. It's just that I was so…dazed at actually being there, I didn't think."

"It's all right Hermione," Harry said, "I was thinking the same thing yesterday, wishing I'd asked Arnos more."

"We should probably take some clothes," Ron said, then grinned, "although I'm not too sure how well jeans would go down if we got sent to the Victorian era."

Whilst Ron had been speaking, Hermione had taken out a piece of parchment and a quill.

"So what should we put in the note?"

&&&

It was almost midnight, a week to the day since they'd visited the pools of time, and Harry was getting restless. Arnos had said he'd return for them in a week, and so they were all sitting in the room Harry and Ron shared, awaiting his arrival.

"Where is he?" Ron grumbled, and rubbed his eyes.

"I don't know…" Harry trailed off, hoping that the old man wasn't going to let them down.

"Calm yourselves, I am here."

Harry jumped, not expecting the voice that came from the chair by the desk.

"Arnos!" Hermione exclaimed, "How did you…" she trailed off.

"I have my ways, Hermione," he replied, "now, shall we go?"

Before any of them had a chance to even think about what Arnos had said, they were being transported to his strange halls of time.

Moments later, and with a slightly less uncomfortable feeling than before, they landed in the pools of time room, and Ginny's eyes widened in amazement.

"It's…just…" She managed to say, before being stunned into silence as Arnos opened the glass cabinet which contained the necklaces. "And these are all we need? To be able to travel back in time?"

"Yes," Arnos replied, smiling. "Now if you'll follow me, I'll explain to you about the first place you will be visiting, and kit you out with the appropriate fashions of the time."

Sharing a bemused glance with the others, Harry let Arnos lead them down a long corridor, and wondered what the future, or rather the past, would hold for them.

&&&

A/N: And so the time journey truly begins. In the next chapter, we'll see where they go to first. If you liked the chapter, please read and review, they mean a lot to me. Thanks!


	5. Corsets and Conversations

**Chapter Four – Corsets and Conversations**

Arnos had led them to what at first glance appeared to be a well-furnished sitting room. The room had a cosy, lived-in feel about it, the large sofas and squashy chairs crowded around the fire looked extremely comfortable, and the plush red carpet was a dream to walk on. There was a large, ornately carved mahogany wardrobe on the far wall, and several oil paintings of the ocean.

Harry had been a little surprised when they'd first entered the room – it was such a difference from the cool marble of the Pools of Time room and the great hall they'd seen the week before. This room seemed almost out of place.

When he'd voiced his thoughts to Arnos, the old man had simply chuckled and muttered something about 'personal tastes', and then he'd invited them to sit on the sofas and presented them with a tray of delectable cakes and biscuits.

Which is where they were sitting now, waiting for Arnos to explain things a little further.

"I expect you want me to tell you the logistics of your journey?" He asked, an enquiring look upon his face.

"Yes," Hermione nodded vigorously, "I've been so annoyed with myself for not asking more the last time we were here!"

Arnos sighed. "Well, I must confess that I deliberately held back on telling you the exact details of your mission, for I feared that if I told you, you would not agree to do it."

"It's going to be that bad?" Ginny asked.

"It depends on your definition of bad," Arnos replied, "but my main concern is getting you all safely from time to time, place to place. I didn't want to tell you this, but there has been resistance from several of my companions – namely a man called Arian. I fear that he may try and prevent this from going ahead. I shall do everything in my power to stop him from intervening, but this I cannot guarantee. Do you still wish to go ahead with it?"

"Yes," Harry said firmly, "anything that will stop Voldemort."

"All right. As I explained before, Voldemort placed his Horcruxes throughout time. Now, I have traced his timelines, and I can see that he stopped in seven places throughout history-"

"But there are only four Horcruxes left." Ron stated, simply.

"Yes," Arnos replied, "but there is no disputing the fact that he stopped seven times throughout history, and we have no way of knowing at which of these seven destinations he placed his Horcruxes."

"So we'll need to visit them all." Hermione said, her face grim.

"Yes, exactly," Arnos smiled at her, "now, you shall have a limited time at each place you visit; a week at the most. I cannot afford to give you longer than that, for the longer you are away in time, the harder it is to get you back. I cannot allow you to take your wands with you, and there would be no point anyway – they would not work."

"How are we going to destroy the Horcruxes when we find them then?" Harry asked.

"You shall bring them back here, and we shall destroy them together."

"What exactly are we looking for?" Ginny asked, "I mean, I know there's a locket, but how will we know what the other Horcruxes are?"

"A valid question, Ginny, and fortunately it is one that I am able to answer. The timelines come in handy sometimes! I was able to delve into Voldemort's past and watch as he created the Horcruxes. I saw that the first he made was put into a diary – this you have destroyed already. He also made one in a ring, which your headmaster eliminated last year. There was a locket, as you already know, and a small golden cup. The fifth was a brooch, a bronze eagle and the last was a shield that had once belonged to Godric Gryffindor."

"So we're going to be looking for the locket, the cup, the bronze eagle and a shield?" Harry confirmed.

"Yes. And when you have obtained these objects, do not attempt to destroy them. Bring them back here and we shall do away with them here. Now, the first place Voldemort visited on his little jaunt through history was Hampshire, in the year 1878. The traces on the timelines show that he paid a visit to Highclere Castle, home at the time to the Earl of Carnarvon. This shall be your first destination."

Harry nodded nervously. Highclere Castle, home to the Earl of Carnarvon. It sounded like something from another world…but he supposed that 1878 was another world. A world of upper class dinner dances, and ladies wearing long gowns with cinched-in waists. A world where televisions and playstations and computer games and all the other things Dudley Dursley could not live with out, did not exist.

Coming out of his daydream slightly, he noticed that Arnos had moved to the large wardrobe in the corner, and had swung open its heavy wooden doors.

"You shall be visiting Highclere Castle as two young married couples. You'll arrive on the twenty-first of May 1878; the Earl is having a dinner dance on the twenty-second. In those times, it was not unusual for the guests to stay at the Manor for a while after the party, particularly if those guests were affluent. Which you shall appear to be."

He pulled out some garments from the wardrobe. There were several elegant gowns for the girls, and smart tailored suits for the boys. He also handed them shoes and underwear, at which Hermione protested vehemently.

"I have to wear a corset?" She exclaimed, her eyes wide as she looked at the offending item of clothing with distaste.

"I'm afraid so, Hermione. Those were the foundation garments of the time, they must be worn."

"All right…" She acquiesced, though she didn't look particularly happy.

"I shall leave you to change into these clothes, and pack the rest into those trunks over there, and then we shall see about getting you on your way."

He smiled benignly and left the room, leaving the four teenagers to stare hopelessly at the strange array of unfamiliar clothes.

&&&

An hour later, Harry had to grin at the incredulity of the situation. They were standing in the Pools of Time room, dressed up to the nines in the Victorian clothes Arnos had given them. Hermione was wearing a long dress in pale blue silk, and Ginny was wearing a similar one in pale green with a delicate lace detail on the front. Somehow, they'd both managed to pile their hair up on their heads in elaborate up-does, soft curls falling delicately around their faces.

Harry and Ron, meanwhile, were wearing suits made of a very expensive feeling material (Ron's was grey and Harry's was dark green), with crisp white shirts beneath. Their shoes were highly polished leather, and if Harry was honest with himself, he felt a bit of an idiot.

They were all wearing wedding rings.

What with Arnos in his white robes, and the four of them looking as though they'd stepped from the pages of a Jane Austen novel, you would be mistaken for thinking they were off to a masquerade ball. But there was no such frivolity in store for them, and Harry had to remind himself of this several times as Arnos removed the four time-travelling necklaces from their pillows and handed one to each of them.

Hermione and Ginny put theirs on immediately, but Harry and Ron stared at them for several moments.

"Arnos," Ron began, "wouldn't it appear a little strange for men to be wearing what looks like ladies jewellery?"

"You're right," Arnos replied, "which is why they will only be visible to you, nobody else."

"Okay," Harry said, and slipped the delicate silver chain around his neck, fumbling with the tiny clasp for several seconds before managing to do it up.

"Now, I'm sure I do not need to repeat this again, but you will have one week exactly. On the twenty-eighth of May 1878, you _must_ return here, even if you have not succeeded in your mission. I must also stress to you that this shall be your only chance. You cannot return to the same time more than once, for fear of meeting up with yourself. Is that understood?"

"Yes." Harry said, and this was echoed by the others.

"How exactly do we get back?" Hermione asked, ever curious.

"The same way in which you will travel there. Now, listen very carefully, for this is important. The necklaces work in the same way as the pools of time. If you were to simply jump into the pool," he gestured at the well in the floor behind him, "you would fall through time and end up at your destination. However, these necklaces are a more comfortable way to travel, and they are all linked together; where one goes, the others follow."

"So…we only need one person to use the necklace each time?" Ginny asked, frowning.

"Exactly," Arnos replied, "this method of time travel takes a lot out of you, in terms of energy, so only one of you will need to do it at a time. Each time you travel, it would be better if a different person activated their necklace. And now comes how to do this. The 'activator', for lack of a better word, must hold the pendant, the essence of time, between the thumb and forefinger of their left hand. Then, they must clearly state out loud, first the exact destination, and then the exact date. When returning here, you need only hold the necklace in the same manner, and say 'home'."

"That sounds fairly easy." Harry said.

"Well the theory always sounds easier than the practical," Arnos said, smiling, "as I said before, doing this will take a lot of energy, and the travelling itself is not always a pleasant experience. Now, are you ready?"

They nodded, and Harry swallowed nervously. This was it, the beginning of their adventure. If this was successful, they'd be one step closer to defeating Voldemort. If this didn't work…well, it wasn't worth thinking about. His Horcruxes would remain hidden in the past, and there would be no way of ridding the world of his evil.

"I'll do it first." He said, picking up the delicate pendant on his necklace, and grasping the handle of one of the trunks, motioning for Ron to do the same to the other. "Shall we go then?"

"Yes," Ginny said firmly, her eyes locking with Harry's, "let's go."

"I shall see you in one week," Arnos said, smiling as he saw Hermione open her mouth to speak, "yes, time shall pass here in the same manner as there. It is one of the peculiarities associated with the necklaces. Good luck."

And with that, Harry closed his eyes and spoke into the silence.

"Highclere Castle, Hampshire. Twenty-first of May, 1878."


	6. Hampshire, 1878

**A/N: Hi everyone – so sorry about the delay in getting this chapter out. I didn't have any motivation to write for a while, but here's the chapter at last! Enjoy!**

** Chapter Five – Hampshire, 1878**

Harry didn't quite know how to describe the feeling of travelling through time. It wasn't dissimilar to travelling by portkey, in that there was a strange feeling in your stomach and a rushing sound in your ears. It lasted several moments, until, finally, they landed with a soft bump onto a gravely path.

Harry was surprised to find that they remained standing, though this was not for long in his case, for almost as soon as they landed, he stumbled backwards, a wave of tiredness sweeping over him.

"All right, Harry?" Ron asked, reaching out to steady him.

"Yes," Harry replied, "just give me a second." He sat down on one of the trunks to catch his breath. Arnos had been right; the travelling had really taken it out of him, but sitting down gave him a moment to take in his surroundings.

They were on a small path beneath the shade of a wooded copse. The day was sunny and bright, and about two miles in the distance; Harry could make out the peaks of a castle, which he assumed was Highclere.

"What do we do now?" Ginny asked, "Arnos didn't tell us we wouldn't arrive at the castle itself."

Harry was about to reply that they should probably make their way towards the direction of the castle, when he heard the sound of horse's hooves and the squeaking wheels of a carriage from a short distance away.

Looking up, he saw a handsome horse-drawn carriage coming towards them, a well-turned out man at the reigns. Standing up, Harry raised his hand to shield the sun from his eyes, and watched as the carriage drew to a halt before him.

The door on the side swung open, and a silver-haired man stepped down, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve when he was stood before them.

"Mr and Mrs Harold Evans and Mr and Mrs Ronald Prewitt?" The man spoke in an upper-class accent, each syllable enunciated precisely.

"Yes," Harry replied, "and you are?"

"My name is Jones, Sir. I am one of the butler's from Highclere Castle. I was told to meet you here and take you for the week of dinner dances. It's a little unusual to meet ones guests by the side of a dirt track, but Lord Carnarvon was most insistent."

"Very well," Harry said, having noticed that Jones had addressed him as 'sir', and trying to sound authoritarian, "shall we go?"

"Very good, Sir," Jones replied, and stepped out of the way of the carriage door.

Harry nodded at the butler, and stepped up into the carriage, marvelling at the plush interior. Jones helped Ginny and Hermione into the carriage, and then single-handedly put their trunks onto the back as Ron clambered in as well.

"I guess Arnos arranged for this to happen?" He asked quietly, as he sat down next to Hermione.

"Yes, I'd imagine so," Harry replied, still feeling slightly weary, "remember to stay in character!"

Jones, having secured their trunks to the back of the carriage, moved back around to the front.

"It's not too far to Highclere," he said, "but this track is a little bumpy."

He nodded at Harry and Ron, and then shut the carriage door, before stepping up to sit next to the driver.

The journey to the castle didn't take very long, and the four friends sat in silence throughout most of it, not wanting Jones or the carriage driver to overhear anything that would give them away.

The Hampshire countryside was breathtaking. Lush green meadows lined the path of the carriage, tall trees sweeping their branches low over its roof. On the approach to the castle, Harry couldn't help but gaze from the window in amazement. Whilst Hogwarts was breathtaking in all its gothic glory, Highclere castle was overwhelming in its magnificent design.

It was only when the carriage entered the grounds of the castle, that Harry was struck with an intense feeling of awe. Before they'd arrived, he'd never fully realised that they were going to be _one hundred and eighteen _years in the past. It was a peculiar feeling.

As the carriage ambled along the wide drive, lined with beech trees, he could see sweeping manicured lawns that stretched for miles in every direction surrounding the castle. It was truly a sight to behold, and it made Harry feel slightly nervous about what they might find within.

&&&

Jones led them through the heavy wooden doors of the castle, indicating to the carriage driver to deal with their trunks.

"I'm to take you to your rooms," Jones said, as they entered the castle, "Lord and Lady Carnarvon will be present at tonight's dinner, where you will be able to meet the other guests as well."

He led them from the entrance hall, which was light and airy, marble columns reaching up to the vaulted ceiling, and up a grand staircase to the first floor. They didn't encounter anybody else on their way, and for this Harry was glad, before dinner that night he wanted to speak with his friends, go over their stories to be sure they didn't slip and reveal their true identity.

Jones showed them to their rooms, grandiose and elegant in keeping with the rest of the castle, and he then left them to get settled. Somehow, their trunks had already been brought to the rooms, positioned neatly at the end of the four-poster bed.

It was only then that they realised the difficulties that posing as married couples would present. Ron and Hermione would be sharing one room, and Harry and Ginny would be sharing the other.

As Ron and Hermione left to unpack and recover from the journey, Harry and Ginny were left in an awkward silence, neither knowing what to do or say. Finally, what seemed like hours later, Ginny broke the silence by moving to lift the latch on the trunk.

"I suppose we'd better get ourselves sorted," she said, quietly, "did Jones say what time dinner would be?"

"Around eight." Harry replied, stiffly, wondering just when they'd become so uncomfortable around each other, and whether it was an effect of knowing they were to share the room that night. "Jones said someone would fetch us, show us where the dining room is."

"All right." Ginny replied, and pulled out one of her dresses from the trunk, moving to hang it up in the wardrobe.

Harry glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece and sighed. It was only half past six. Meaning another hour or so of stilted conversation and uneasy silences. Harry had thought that adapting to life in Victorian times would be the biggest problem he'd have to face, but he was beginning to think that maybe he'd been wrong.

&&&

"So are we all clear?" Harry asked, looking at each of his friends in turn. It was now half past seven, and Ron and Hermione had left their room, and were sitting on the small, hard sofa in Harry and Ginny's room.

"Yes," Hermione replied, "I'm the daughter of a wealthy shipping merchant, and I am married to one of his colleagues Ronald Prewitt. I'm twenty years old, and I live with my husband in a townhouse in London."

"Right," Harry said, "I'm involved in property, working for my Father's company, also in London, where I live with my eighteen year old wife, Virginia Evans."

"My name's not Virginia, Harry, it's Ginevra," Ginny said, "I thought you knew that?"

"I do," Harry replied, "but Ginevra is too unusual."

"All right then," she sighed, "Virginia it is."

"So, do we just wait for someone to come and take us to dinner?" Ron asked.

"Yes," Harry said, "we need to act as normally as possible, we don't want people to think that we're not who we say we are. Although I don't know how we're going to find out if there's a Horcrux hidden here. The castle is huge, there must be over a hundred rooms, not to mention the servant's quarters."

"I think the best thing we can do tonight is try and find out the programme of events for the rest of the week," Ron said, "we know that there are going to be dances in the evenings, but for the rest of the time what will we be doing?"

"Good idea," Harry replied, "if we find out what the arrangements are, we'll be able to plan our search around that."

"Yeah, like if most of the guests go out hunting one of the days, someone can pretend to be ill and stay behind," Ginny put in, before a frown crossed her face, "but in a place like this, there's always going to be people around – servants and housekeepers."

"It does seem like an impossible task," Hermione said, "but we've got to do our best. That's all we can do."

Harry nodded, but a small seed of self-doubt had implanted itself firmly in his mind. Now that he'd seen the vastness of the castle and its grounds, a week didn't seem nearly long enough to find what they were looking for. Not long enough at all.

&&&

**A/N: Thanks for reading, and please review!**


	7. Adjusting

**A/N: Hey everyone! I'm really sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out – I can't believe I haven't updated for over two months! I'll try and get the updates going a bit quicker this time. Enjoy! **

**Chapter Six - Adjusting**

Twenty minutes later, and they were sitting around a large table in one of the castle's dining rooms, making small talk with several other guests whilst they awaited the arrival of Lord and Lady Carnarvon.

Harry was glad to find that they had been seated together; he had Ginny, Hermione and then Ron to his right, and another young couple to his left. He didn't join in with the hum of conversation for several moments, taking the time to observe his surroundings and the people.

The dining room was large, and the table of a highly polished oak. The room was dominated by a painting of a man seated upon a white horse, and Harry overheard one of the other guests saying that it was a portrait of Charles the First.

He glanced at Ginny, and noticed that she looked slightly pale.

"Are you all right?" He whispered, careful not to attract attention from the other fifty or so guests.

"I'm fine," she replied, faintly, "just feeling a little overwhelmed by it all. I'm scared I'm going to do or say something that will give us away."

"You won't," Harry said, smiling reassuringly, "I have faith in you. It's Ron I'm more concerned about."

"Yeah," Ginny smiled weakly, "he seems to be taking the role of shipping merchant a little too far."

Harry peered down the table at his redheaded friend, who was leaning over to talk to the moustached man seated next to her. Ron was gesticulating wildly, and the man laughed heartily.

"Well, I hope ships are all he's talking about," Harry said frowning, and was about to say something more, when he heard a high pitched tapping sound, and he looked up to see it was the butler, ringing a small crystal bell.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please be upstanding to welcome Lord and Lady Carnarvon."

There was a rustle of crinolines and the slight scrape of chairs, and everyone stood up, the room falling silent.

Harry looked towards the doorway, as did all of the other guests, and awaited the entrance of the Lord and Lady of the castle. Seconds later, they arrived, a petite brunette on the arm of a tall thin man with a thick moustache.

There was nothing immediately remarkable about either of them, Lord Carnarvon had a slightly standoffish air about him, but the Lady Carnarvon was smiling softly at the guests. They took their seats at the head of the table, and it was only when they were comfortably seated did the rest of the table sit once more.

The silence remained for several seconds, before the Lady Carnarvon leaned over and spoke to a blonde-haired lady by her side, and then the hum of conversation resumed.

"Harry!" Hermione whispered, leaning across to speak to him, "Did you see?"

"See what?" He replied, frowning and wondering what had got Hermione so flustered.

"Look at her neck!"

Both he and Ginny, who had been listening as well, looked over at Lady Carnarvon and saw the reason for Hermione's excitement. There, hanging around the Lady's neck, was a golden locket, nestled in the space between her collarbones.

"Oh my God!" Ginny whispered, "Is that…?"

"I think so, yes," Harry replied, sounding slightly awed, "I didn't think it would be so easy to find."

"Knowing where it is, that's one thing," Hermione said, "getting it is another. She's the Lady of the Castle, and we're lowly guests – we're not going to be able to get anywhere near it."

Ron, who had continued his conversation with the man at his side, was now paying attention to what Hermione was saying, and through a mouthful of vegetables, spoke.

"We could still do what we said before – wait until they go out hunting or whatever it is these posh people do – and just go and have a snoop around their rooms."

"Keep your voice down," Hermione whispered, "but that's easier said than done, isn't it? They're not going to leave their doors unlocked with a house full of guests."

"Let's talk about this later," Harry warned suddenly, noticing that a man across the table, who very much resembled a sea lion, was watching them with a beady eye.

The others nodded, and carried on eating their meal, joining in with the conversation about the table.

&&&

The rest of the evening had passed slowly. After the meal, the men and women split up, the men moving to the parlour, where talk of politics ensued within clouds of tobacco smoke, and the women moved to one of the morning rooms to make polite conversation.

It was there that Hermione and Ginny managed to get a closer look at the locket around Lady Carnarvon's neck, and saw that it was definitely the one that they'd seen the summer before at Grimmauld Place.

Ginny was finding playing the role of Virginia Evans increasingly fun, really getting into it when talking to one of the other guests. Charlotte Clifton, who was the daughter of a very well-to-do shipping merchant, seemed very surprised when she learned that Ginny was also the daughter of a shipping merchant, and that they'd never come across each other before.

But whilst Ginny and Charlotte chatted like old friends, Hermione seated herself a little away from the rest of the group, a thoughtful look on her face.

"Are you all right?" Came a soft voice, "You're looking a little pale."

Hermione looked up to see Lady Carnarvon peering down at her concernedly.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just feeling a little overwhelmed, I've not…" Hermione trailed off for fear of saying too much, but the Lady just smiled.

"Ah, as I thought. Your first gathering of this kind as an 'adult', am I right?"

Hermione nodded, glad for the excuse, "Yes. How could you guess?"

"You look a little uncomfortable, if you'll forgive me for saying so, as though you're not sure what is expected of you," she then leaned forward conspiratorially, "now this is just between you and me, but whatever anyone might think, I'm _not_ as scary as I may seem. There's no need to feel uncomfortable."

"Thank you," Hermione replied gratefully, and then decided to take the chance to ask her about the locket. "That's a lovely locket, my Lady, may I ask who designed it?"

"Oh, I don't know to be honest," Lady Carnarvon replied, her hand leaping to her throat to touch the pendant, "it was a gift from my husband for my birthday last month."

"It looks awfully heavy," Hermione remarked, "does it not hurt?"

"I can put up with the ache for something of such beauty," she said, "besides, I wear it very rarely. Tonight is only the second time I've worn it."

Lady Carnarvon smiled, and then moved to talk to one of the other guests, leaving Hermione alone with her thoughts.

&&&

Both the men and the women retired to their rooms not long after, something for which Harry was very grateful. He'd found the talk of politics boring, and more than a little confusing. He'd been expected to know what they meant when they talked of the current affairs, and he was more than a little annoyed that Arnos had not prepared them more fully.

And so it was with more than a little relief when he twisted the doorknob to his room, and stumbled in tiredly. What he hadn't expected was to find Ginny changing into her nightgown.

"Harry!" She exclaimed, clutching her nightgown to her, face flaming.

Harry felt his cheeks beginning to burn too, and turned around. Desperately trying to ignore the hurried rustling of cloth, he began to wonder what they were going to do about sleeping arrangements.

When it fell silent, he chanced a glance around and saw that Ginny was now wearing the long white nightgown, and was in the process of hanging her elaborate dress in the wardrobe.

"Sorry," he mumbled, quietly, "I should have knocked."

"It's all right," Ginny replied, awkwardly, "I should have changed in the bathroom."

There was an uncomfortable silence, punctuated only by the loud ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece.

"So, erm…" Harry began, glancing across at the bed. Whilst remarkably grand and elaborate, it seemed as though the people in this time preferred their beds smaller. It was barely wider than a single bed, and Harry imagined that the people who shared it would have to sleep quite close together.

Feeling slightly panicked, he glanced around the room, not noticing the amused smile on Ginny's face as she brushed her hair, and his gaze landed on the small, hard sofa in the corner of the room.

That would have to do. He'd probably not be able to get to sleep for ages, and would more than likely wake up with a bad back and cricked neck, but what else could he do? He glanced across at Ginny, still stroking the brush through her hair and closed his eyes. No, he would just have to make do with the sofa.

"All right Harry?" Ginny asked, as she pulled back the covers on the bed.

"Erm, yes," Harry said, now staring at the sofa, as if willing it to become more comfortable, "I'll sleep on this sofa then."

"What are you on about?" Ginny replied, amusement in her voice, "This bed's plenty big enough for the both of us."

"But…" Harry said, confused.

"Harry," Ginny said gently, "we may have a history, but that doesn't stop me being your friend. And as your friend, I'm not going to let you sleep on that sofa. You'll end up with a sore neck."

Harry nodded, and then smiled at her.

"All right, if you insist," he replied, "I'll just go and get changed then."

"You do that," Ginny smiled back, and climbed beneath the duvet.

Five minutes later, when Harry returned wearing his nightclothes, Ginny was fast asleep, her red hair splayed on the pillow.

&&&

**A/N: Thanks for reading, and if you liked it, please review! Also, because I feel so bad about not updating for so long, look out for something in the next couple of days ;)**


	8. First Interlude

**A/N: Something a little bit different here, that I felt needed to be placed in its own chapter. I'll try and get the next chapter out ASAP, it's already half written, when we'll go back to Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Enjoy!**

** First Interlude**

Arnos sighed as he watched the four teenagers disappear into the past before his eyes. Now, he could do nothing but await their return. He closed the door of the glass cabinet with a click, and turned to look into the pools of time.

He could see the timelines changing already, moving and moulding themselves to the changes that Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were already making. Time travel was a dangerous thing, even the slightest slip by any one of them could cause something irreversible to happen.

It was easy to lose yourself in the pools of time. The myriad of colours and shapes were mesmerising to watch, and quite often he came to stare into them, to have hours and even days pass him by in the blink of an eye.

But it did not seem as though he would be allowed to do this today, for he was suddenly startled from his reverie by the sound of a door slamming. This in itself was unusual; the guardians of time were normally calm, sedentary folk, not prone to loud noises.

Pulling his gaze from the pools, he left the time room, moving towards where he'd heard the door slam. He was just about to grasp the door handle to enter the room, when the sound of raised voices emanated from within, and he paused to listen.

"It's _done_ Arian! They've gone, there's nothing you can do about it now!"

"Not this time anyway. But when they get back, I am taking those necklaces and I will _not_ allow Arnos to continue with this farce. I highly doubt those four children will have any success on this 'mission' of theirs, and by sending them into the past, _we're_ doing something that goes against our laws, we're meddling in the lives of the mortals! Tell me that that is right, Bonarn, tell me that's right."

"It's happened before," Bonarn replied, in a calm voice that was obviously meant to placate Arian, "we've helped before, back in the times of Merlin and nothing untoward came out of that. Why can't we help again? Their wizarding world is going to destroy itself if we don't let Arnos help, and from what I've seen of this Voldemort person, it won't take long for him to destroy the non-wizarding community as well."

"That may be, but what you and that fool Arnos fail to see is that by aiding them in the way he wants to, we are taking away their chances to learn and fend for themselves. We're babying them. What happens if through our help, they succeed in ridding the world of this mad man? What then? They'll turn to us every time they need a favour, and where will that leave us? I won't stand for it. When those children get back, I'm ending this charade once and for all."

From the other side of the door, Arnos sighed again. Since he'd first announced his plans to help, at their meeting only a week or so ago, Arian had tried to block him at every turn.

He'd argued, and shouted, he'd looked up ancient decrees which stated that guardians of time should not dabble in mortal matters, he'd attempted to stop Arnos from making contact with Harry, and it was obvious from his conversation with Bonarn that he wasn't finished yet.

Lost in his thoughts, Arnos had missed whatever it was that Bonarn had replied, for Arian was speaking again, a harsh tone and bitter edge to his voice.

"-the only way! I've been researching in the library, and it can be done. And I'm counting on you to help me, Bonarn. Arnos is too wrapped up in those children to notice what we're doing, and when they get back, I want us to be ready, understood?"

Arnos frowned as he heard Bonarn reply with an unenthusiastic "yes", and then he hurried away, back to the time room, before either of them found out he had been eavesdropping.


	9. The Locket

**Chapter Seven – The Locket**

The twenty-second of May dawned bright and clear, and it was the sun shining through the window which awoke Harry from his slumber. Squinting, he sat up in the bed, and glanced to his side, expecting to see Ginny still asleep.

She wasn't there, but he could hear noises coming from the bathroom and assumed that she was in there, getting ready for the day ahead. He thought back to what Arnos had told them – that the grand dinner dance was to be held on the twenty-second of May – today.

Sighing, his thoughts turned to the locket and what seemed like the impossible task of taking it back with them. He was beginning to wonder if Arnos had sent them on a fool's errand, with no hope of succeeding.

There was a knock on the door, and Harry barely had time to say, "come in", when Hermione and Ron pushed their way into the room.

"What are you still doing in bed?" Ron asked, then narrowed his eyes, "In fact, what are you doing in the bed at all? I would have thought you'd have let Ginny sleep in the bed. You didn't make her sleep on the floor did you?"

"Err…" Harry didn't know what to say, but was thankfully saved from having to say anything when Ginny emerged from the bathroom, her dress today a light blue.

"Oh don't be silly Ron," she said, grinning at Hermione, "we shared the bed. I couldn't have Harry sleeping on the floor or that horrible sofa."

"But…Ginny!"

"Erm, well I'm going to go and get dressed," Harry muttered, before hurrying into the bathroom and leaving Ginny and Ron to argue it out.

&&&

Breakfast passed in much the same manner as the evening meal the night before, with the exception that Lord and Lady Carnarvon did not attend. Ginny found herself seated next to Charlotte Clifton, and they easily fell into conversation. Ron and Hermione were having a muttered argument by the looks of it, but Harry on the other hand ate contemplatively. He wondered how they were going to be able to retrieve the locket before the week was over. At least they knew where it was – that was a start.

He also wondered how he was going to manage to survive the week sleeping in that narrow bed with Ginny. It had taken him ages to get to sleep the night before, as he'd felt unable to relax. He didn't want to end up accidentally snuggled up to Ginny or anything like that.

_Although that wouldn't be so bad._

He frowned, and tried to push the thought from his mind. It was too dangerous. He couldn't let himself get involved with her again. But as he watched her talking animatedly with Charlotte Clifton, her eyes dancing, he realised just how hard that would be.

&&&

After breakfast, Jones reappeared and informed the guests that the day would be one of repose, before the ball later that night. He mentioned that the castle's library was available to peruse, or that they could take a walk through the grounds and make the most of the late Spring sunshine.

Despite Hermione's eyes lighting up at the thought of an authentic nineteenth century library, Harry wanted to spend the day outside. They needed to talk everything over and make a plan.

Fifteen minutes later found them walking outside, along a neat gravel path shaded by a row of trees. Hermione looked slightly put out that she wasn't able to go to the library, but hadn't said anything.

Harry saw a grove of trees a little way off, and suggested that they sit there for a while and talk. It was out of the way and so there would be no risk of any of the other guests overhearing them.

The grass underneath the trees was springy and soft, and when they got there, Ginny threw herself down onto the ground and spread her arms to her sides, smiling up at the others.

"It almost feels like we're not here for any other purpose than to have a good time," she said, as Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down on either side of her.

"I know what you mean," Hermione replied, tucking her long skirt around her legs, "the weather's glorious, and the landscape is stunning…it'd be nice if we didn't have to worry about the Horcrux."

Harry sighed, and realised that they did need to worry about it, and talk about how they were going to get the locket, now that they knew where it was.

"Do you think she's going to be wearing it tonight?" He asked, looking at Hermione.

"Perhaps," Hermione frowned, "she said that she rarely wore it, and I would assume that when she doesn't wear it, it's kept in her room."

"It would be pretty easy if she was wearing it tonight," Ron mused, "all it would take is for one of us," he gestured at Harry, then himself, "to dance with her, and try and unhook it without her noticing."

"That'd be pretty risky," Ginny interjected, "she's the Lady of the Manor, people are going to be watching her."

"And don't forget we're in the Victorian times, and things were…are…different now. We don't know if it's acceptable for a guest to dance with the Lady of the Manor, so we're going to have to be careful," she paused, and then made a face, "I wish Arnos had given us some time to research this time period! My knowledge of this era is limited to what I've read in the Brontë's books!"

"What's this?" Ron said, sounding amused, "Hermione Granger, admitting to not knowing something?"

"I know _some_ things about the Victorian era, but not all the little things that we need to know to live as one!"

"All right," Ron replied, putting his hands out in a placating gesture, "it was just a joke."

"Well it wasn't funny," Hermione snapped, and opened her mouth to say something else, but before she could, Harry interrupted, not wanting his friends to start a fight.

"So if she isn't wearing it at the ball tonight, what do we do?"

"Well we'll have to assume that it's in her room," Hermione said, her tone of voice returning to normal, "and somehow, we'll have to get it."

"Most people will be at the ball, won't they?" Ginny put in, "So two of us could slip away and break into the room without anyone being any the wiser, and then if we do find it, we could go back to Arnos before Lady Carnarvon notices that it's missing."

"I suppose that's all we can do," Harry replied, frowning, "let's just hope she doesn't wear it tonight."

&&&

They spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon sitting beneath the grove of trees, chatting and enjoying the sunshine. Harry hadn't been able to help letting his thoughts stray to the end of the war, to when summer afternoons could truly be like that – minus the Victorian attire, of course – but days when they would be free of Voldemort and have time to just enjoy being young.

But those days seemed too far away to even contemplate, and so he told himself to forget about it for now, to concentrate on getting ready for the dance, which was fast approaching.

They had agreed that if Lady Carnarvon was not wearing the locket, Harry and Ron would slip away sometime during the evening, and attempt to find her rooms. If she was wearing it - well, their plans would be scuppered, unless they could get close enough to try what Ron had suggested.

Harry was combing his hair, and desperately trying to make it lie flat, when he heard a rustle of skirts from behind him, and then Ginny's voice.

"Are you ready yet? The ball will be starting soon."

He gave his hair one last smooth down, and turned around to answer.

"I'm ready, let's…" He trailed off when he saw her.

"What?" She asked, biting her lip, "Is it too much?"

He took in her pale green dress, which clung enticingly to her curves, and then the way she had styled her hair, an elegant twist at the back of her head, with a few loose curls trailing across her shoulders, and gulped. He'd never seen her look so…grown up.

"N-no," Harry managed to get out, "you look great."

"Well then," she smiled, "shall we go?"

&&&

The grand ballroom at Highclere Castle was suitably elegant, with a wide sweeping staircase, and elaborate stone arches lining the walls. When Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione arrived, the dance was already in full swing, with the guests dancing to a lively tune.

Harry scanned the room quickly, but couldn't see Lord or Lady Carnarvon anywhere. They made their way down the staircase, and stood slightly to the side, Harry keeping an eye on the top of the stairs the whole time.

About ten minutes had passed, during which they'd made small talk with some of the other guests, when the room fell silent, and Jones appeared at the foot of the stairs.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome the Lord and Lady Carnarvon." He stepped to the side, and the Lord and Lady began to descend the stairs.

They could see immediately that she wasn't wearing the heavy gold locket. Instead, Lady Carnarvon's neck was adorned with an intricate diamond necklace, which matched her weighty earrings.

"She's not wearing it," Hermione whispered, a note of excitement in her voice.

"Shall we go, Harry?" Ron asked.

"Not yet," Harry replied, his gaze still resting on Lady Carnarvon, "we've not been here long, and it might look a little suspicious. We'll go after dinner."

Ron nodded, and then turned to smile at Hermione. "Want to dance?"

Hermione looked a little shocked, but accepted Ron's invitation anyway, allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor with a slight blush on her cheeks.

The evening wore on, with dinner being served shortly after the Lord and Lady arrived. When the dancing started again, Harry shot Ron a surreptitious look, and they both left the room as discreetly as possible, leaving Hermione and Ginny to cover for them if necessary.

Hermione had guessed that the Carnarvon's would probably occupy the East Wing of the castle, as the servant's had the West Wing.

The corridors were deserted, with all the guests at the dance, and so it was fairly easy for Ron and Harry to traverse the hallways and make their way towards the East Wing.

They found themselves getting lost twice, once ending up on the floor where their own rooms were situated, and the other time in a corridor that was plain and bare, with no carpet and no decoration on the walls. Harry guessed that that corridor led to the servant's quarters, and so they hurried back to the main hallway once again, making their way in the opposite direction.

Eventually, they came to a set of double doors, and somehow Harry knew that they were in the right place. It might have had something to do with the more sumptuous feel of the carpet in that corridor, or perhaps the long line of portraits depicting the Carnarvon's over the generations, but he was almost certain that this was the entrance to their rooms.

"Damn, the doors are locked," Ron said, as he tried the handle.

"Don't talk so loud," Harry said, and then grinned, "and aren't you the brother of the Weasley twins? Have you learned nothing from them?"

"Huh?" Ron said, and then, catching on, smiled, "Oh. But we need a hairpin for that, and the girls…"

He trailed off as he saw Harry produce a hairpin from his pocket.

"Hermione gave it to me. She guessed that we'd have to pick a lock or two along the way."

"Give it here then," Ron said, and as soon as Harry had handed it to him, he proceeded to pick the lock of the door, whilst Harry kept a wary eye on the corridor behind them.

Eventually, there was a satisfying click, and the door fell open. Ron grinned triumphantly, and they slipped through, being careful to close the door firmly behind them.

They had entered what appeared to be some sort of sitting room; there was a piano in one corner and several sofa's and armchair's intermittently spread across the room.

On either side of the large fireplace there were open doors, which they guessed led into the Lord and Lady's bedrooms. After a quick look, it was clear that the room to the left of the fireplace belonged to Lord Carnarvon, and the one to the right to the Lady.

Harry found it slightly strange that the married couple would have separate rooms, but he didn't dwell on it for long – they had to find the locket.

After several minutes of searching, Ron let out a triumphant cry, and Harry turned to see him holding the Horcrux.

"That's definitely it?" Harry asked, slightly surprised that it had been found so quickly, and so easily.

"Yes," Ron said, "this is definitely what she was wearing last night."

Harry took the locket from his friend and examined it. Ron was right, it was definitely the Horcrux, and as he held it, Harry could feel a faint thrum of magic seeping from it. It was a strange feeling. He slipped it into his pocket, and wondered what to do next.

Could they risk going back to the ballroom, now that they were in possession of the locket? Or should they go back to their rooms and wait until the girls got back? Whatever they decided to do, he knew they couldn't linger in the Carnarvon's quarters, and so they hurried back into the sitting room, and were just crossing to leave, when they heard a startled "Oh!" from the other side of the room.

Turning to look, Harry saw a maid bent over the fire, sweeping ashes into a dustpan.

"What are you doing in here?" She asked, setting the dustpan and brush on the hearth and standing up. "These are the Lord and Lady's private rooms! How did you get in?"

"We, er," Harry began, wracking his brains for a plausible excuse, "we got lost on the way back to our own rooms, and thought we heard a noise coming from in here, so we came to investigate."

Even to his own ears, the excuse sounded entirely unbelievable, but he hoped the young maid wouldn't question them.

"And did you find anything?" She asked, frowning.

"Er, no," Harry replied, beginning to feel slightly desperate, "We looked in both of the rooms and there's nobody there."

"I don't know…" the maid pursed her lips, "I think perhaps I'd better take you to Jones."

"There's no need to do that," Ron spoke up hurriedly, "there's been no harm done. Why don't we let you get on with your work, and we'll find our own way back to our rooms."

"Well…" she paused, frowning again, "no, I don't think so. If Jones ever found out about this, and I hadn't told him, well, it's more than my job's worth." She gestured to the door, "Come on."

Harry sighed, and glanced at Ron, who looked back hopelessly. He slipped his hand into his pocket, and closed his fist around the locket as they followed the maid from the room.

Now that they'd got the Horcrux, Harry wasn't going to give it up, and so their only hope was that Jones believed their story, and didn't think to search them. If he did…well, Harry didn't like to think what the consequences would be.

&&&


	10. Escape

**A/N: Here's the latest chapter! I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and a great New Year! I hope the updates of this fic will be less sporadic in 2007! **

**Chapter Eight – Escape**

Harry and Ron walked in silence behind the maid, occasionally shooting worried glances at each other. What would they do if Jones found that they had the locket? What were the penalties for stealing in the nineteenth century? Harry didn't know, but he didn't want to find out either.

The maid led them into a small room, which was quite understated compared to the rest of the castle. She seated them at a wooden bench, told them quite firmly not to move, and left the room in search of Jones.

As soon as she'd gone, Ron turned to Harry worriedly.

"Harry, what are we going to do? She's going to be back any minute and he'll find it, and then what will happen?"

"We could try and sneak out and find the girls," Harry said, frowning, "but she led us down so many corridors I don't think we'd be able to find our way back to the ballroom."

"Yeah…" Ron trailed off, staring into the middle distance, when all of a sudden, he jumped up. "The necklaces! Harry, did Arnos say anything about us all having to be in the same room when we activated them?"

"I don't think so," Harry replied, a dawning comprehension in his eyes, "so you think we could activate one of our necklaces and it would take us all back?"

"I don't see why not," Ron said, "but I think it's the only thing we can do. I know I'd rather be back with Arnos in the Halls of Time than waiting here for Jones to come."

Harry pulled out the delicate necklace from within his shirt, and was about to clasp it between his thumb and forefinger, when Ron held up his hand.

"Harry, it's only been a couple of days since you last did that. It might drain your strength and who knows where Arnos will send us next," he sat back down onto the bench, "I'll do it this time."

Harry frowned, but didn't argue, and dropped his necklace beneath his shirt once more, as Ron took his out.

"Ready?" He asked, and Harry nodded, only hoping that Ginny and Hermione wouldn't be too shocked to be pulled through time back to Arnos. "Home."

&&&

All too soon, Harry was once again experiencing the odd sensation of travelling through time. It wasn't so bad this time around, because he knew what to expect, but it wasn't his favourite method of travel by far.

And then, suddenly, the rushing stopped and Harry found himself standing in the Pools of Time room. Ron was standing next to him, looking a little worse for wear, and next to him – thank goodness – Ginny and Hermione were sitting on the floor, looking around confusedly.

"Harry?" Ginny said, looking up at him, "What happened?"

Harry explained to them how they'd been caught in Lady Carnarvon's room, and how coming back here had been their only escape route.

"Where were you when the necklaces pulled you back?" Ron asked, his voice faint.

"We were in the corner of the ballroom, talking to some of the other guests," Hermione said, "they must have had a bit of a shock when we disappeared."

"They will not have noticed," Arnos' voice suddenly cut through their conversation, "the necklace's work in such a way that already, their memories of you will have begun to fade. Now, I assume as you have returned here, you were able to locate the cursed locket?"

"Yes," Harry said, fishing the Horcrux from his pocket and showing Arnos, "what are we going to do with it now?"

"At present, nothing," Arnos replied, "I have been doing some research into these Horcruxes, and I have yet to find anything on how they can be destroyed. There are still three Horcruxes to find, and so I shall continue with my research whilst you travel to find them."

"Where are we going next?" Hermione said, asking the question that they were all thinking.

"Not quite as far back as you have just been," Arnos replied, "this time you'll be going back to 1943, to a boarding school in Devon. But I think I shall allow you a couple of days grace, to rest and recuperate, before you make that journey."

"Where are you going to keep the locket?" Harry asked, holding it out.

"It will be kept in that cupboard, the one in which the necklaces are usually stored. No one but me has access to it."

He took the golden chain from Harry's outstretched hand, and placed it in a box, which he then put in the glass fronted cupboard.

"It shall be safe there. Now, are you hungry?"

&&&

After eating, Arnos led them to a room that led from the sitting room they'd seen on their previous visit to the Halls of Time.

The room was light and airy, with four beds and a small sink. A full moon shone through the window, and as he lay on his bed, in that space between sleep and wakefulness, Harry wondered if the moon shining here was the same moon that shone on Hogwarts and on Grimmauld Place.

And then his thoughts turned to Remus, who could be transforming into a werewolf at that very moment. Although it had only been a matter of days since they had left number twelve, to Harry it felt like a lot longer.

As he drifted to sleep, he wondered how much more time would pass until he saw Remus - and everyone else - again.

The following day was spent resting and relaxing. Arnos let them use his sitting room, and they stayed there for most of the day. Towards the end of the day, Hermione asked if she could visit the library, and with Arnos' permission, she left the others playing a game of chess.

All in all, Harry thought that it was a very peaceful day, marred only by thoughts that it seemed like the calm before the storm.

Arnos had mentioned that their next destination was a boarding school in Devon, and Harry couldn't help but wonder what lay in store for them. What Horcrux would Voldemort have hidden at a school?

&&&

The next morning, Arnos awoke them early, and led them into the sitting room.

"I think perhaps I had better tell you something that happened whilst you were away," he began, sighing and pacing the room, "I overheard a conversation between two of my companions, Arian and Bonarn, and what I heard does not bode well. They are…opposed to me helping you locate the Horcruxes, and they want to stop you. Arian does not yet have Bonarn fully convinced, though I fear it is only a matter of time." He paused, and looked intently at Harry.

"I do not know what Arian is planning, but he is a powerful man, and the results could be catastrophical for you and your world. This is why we need to move quickly. I allowed you a day of rest yesterday, but we need to continue your journey this afternoon. In the wardrobe you will find all the clothes you will need. I will meet you in the Pools of Time room after lunch."

As Arnos left the room, Harry glanced at the others, a worried frown on his face. Now it seemed that they not only had to contend with Voldemort, but also with a guardian of time who did not approve of their actions.

Ginny stood up, and walked over to the wardrobe with some trepidation. She opened the door, and peered inside.

"It's not too bad," she said eventually, pulling out several hangers of clothes, "just basic school uniform's really."

She passed Ron and Harry several pairs of grey trousers, as well as white shirts and grey jumpers. For herself and Hermione, there were grey pleated skirts and cardigans.

"I suppose these are better than the corsets and those heavy dresses," Ginny said, looking through the clothes, "but this cardigan doesn't look very flattering."

"It doesn't matter what we look like, we just have to look like we fit in," Ron replied, frowning as Hermione passed him a cap. "We don't have to wear these, do we? I'll look like a right prat."

"Didn't you just say it didn't matter what we look like?" Hermione remarked, a smile on her face.

Ron didn't reply, but snatched his clothes up and marched into the bedroom to change, leaving Hermione and Ginny's laughter in his wake.

&&&

After lunch, they made their way to the Pools of Time, dressed in their new school uniforms.

Arnos was already there, staring contemplatively into the swirling pools of time, but he looked up and smiled when they entered the room.

"Already you look like you belong in the 1940's," he said, taking in their appearance, "are you ready for your next journey?"

"As we'll ever be," Harry said, "you are going to tell us about where we're going before we leave, aren't you?"

"Yes, yes," Arnos said, ushering them over to a bench on the other side of the room, "now, you'll be going to Ivywood Boarding School, which is a mixed-sex school in North Devon. You'll be arriving at the start of term, on the fourth of September, and will take the role of new students entering Lower Sixth. The headmaster of the school, Mr Darlington, will be expecting you. You will keep your first names, though I have had to alter your surnames slightly, so Harry, you are now Harry Patterson, Ron and Ginny, you are the Williams', and Hermione you are Miss Green."

"Do you know which Horcrux we'll be looking for?" Harry asked, before Arnos could continue.

"I do," Arnos replied, smiling again, "you will be on the lookout for a small cup, which once belonged to Helga Hufflepuff. I believe that you have seen this cup before, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry said, "I know what to look for."

"Good. Now, as before, you will have only five days to find the cup before you must return. Do you have any more questions before you go?"

Harry shook his head, and the others did too.

"Very well then. Who will be the, ah, activator this time?"

"I will," Ginny spoke out, before anyone else could, "Harry and Ron have already done it, and Hermione can bring us back."

Arnos nodded. "All right then. Goodbye, and good luck!"

&&&

**A/N: Thanks for reading, and please review!**


	11. Devon, 1943

**A/N: I am so, so sorry that I haven't updated in so long! I haven't had much time these past few months, but I've finally managed to get this chapter finished, so here it is. Enjoy!**

**Chapter Nine – Devon, 1943**

Having become quite accustomed to time travelling, Harry didn't take much notice of the strange sensation of falling through time. They landed softly, and he opened his eyes to see Ginny staggering slightly against her large suitcase.

"Are you all right?" He asked, and watched as she lifted a hand to her head, pressing her palm against her temples.

"I'm fine," she said, faintly, "just a little dizzy."

Harry nodded, and looked around. They were standing on the platform of a small train station. There was a waiting room further along the platform, next to a ticket office, but the platform was deserted. The large clock above the ticket office said that it was half past eleven.

"What do you suppose we do now?" Hermione asked, looking at their empty surroundings.

"Wait, I guess," Harry replied, "Arnos said that the headmaster would be expecting us, so wait is all we can do."

Hermione nodded, and led the way to a wooden bench, where they sat, taking in their surroundings and soaking up the late summer sunshine.

A few minutes later, the sound of an approaching steam train could be heard, and Harry peered out along the track to see an engine a little way off, steaming towards the station.

Moments later, the train pulled to a stop, the wheels screeching on the track and billows of smoke pouring onto the platform. From within the clouds of smoke, a cacophony of chattering and laughter could be heard, and then scores of schoolchildren poured onto the platform.

Harry and the others stared at the familiar scene; so similar to the arrival at Hogsmeade Station, but at the same time world's apart. After the initial scrabble of feet and suitcases, the pupils seemed to be forming several lines, each headed by a formidable looking teacher.

Harry glanced at his friends, wondering if they should join one of the lines, when a hard-faced man cast his shadow over them.

"New students?" He asked, "Why weren't you on the school train?"

"Erm," Harry began, but before he could think up an excuse, Hermione interrupted.

"We caught the earlier train, Sir," she said, her lie sounding convincing even to Harry's ears, "our parents thought that it would be better for us to wait here than at the crowded London station."

"I see," the man's lips pursed together, and a frown loomed across his face, but then he nodded. "Well, don't dally! Join the line of new pupils over there."

They traipsed towards the group of students that the teacher had indicated, dragging their suitcases behind them. Harry noticed that Ginny was still looking a little dizzy, and so held out an arm to steady her.

She grinned at him, and seemed to be about to say something, when the teacher at the head of their line began to talk.

"The old pupils will take the coaches up to the school, but as new students you will walk, and I will tell you about your new school. We are one of the most prestigious mixed boarding schools in the country, and I have no doubts that each and every one of you will enjoy your time with us. Follow me."

There was a scuffle of feet and then the line began to move forwards, following the teacher along the stony path, their shoes becoming covered in the dust that lined the way.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny made up the rear of the line, and so they were able to examine the other new pupils without arousing too much suspicion. There were only a few, a dozen at the most, and the boys seemed to outnumber the girls. A few at the front were deep in conversation with the teacher, and it filtered down the line that this was the strict-but-nice Miss Reynolds.

The walk up to the school was pleasant, the sun was shining and the countryside was green and fresh. Miss Reynolds pointed out interesting landmarks along the way – "There's the pond you'll visit on nature walks," and "In the summer, you'll have riding lessons at those stables."

Eventually, they arrived at the school, an old redbrick building covered in ivy. It didn't look very big, but when Harry thought about the small number of pupils he'd seen at the train station, he supposed it was just right.

They were led into the building, and then into the school's dining room. Miss Reynolds proceeded to split them up into houses, of which there were four. Ron and Ginny were placed in Warwick, and Harry and Hermione in Arden. The other two houses were Tudor and Vesey, and both of these seemed to receive the bulk of the new pupils.

Dormitories were assigned, timetables were given out, and then Miss Reynolds instructed them to go to see their House Matron to hand in their Medical Certificates.

The day wore on, and despite the strange situation, Harry found himself enjoying playing the role of a 1940's schoolboy. He wasn't in a dormitory with Ron, but three other boys in the Lower Sixth, named Sam, William and Anthony. They seemed pleasant enough, if a little earnest. They were all old students, and seemed genuinely happy to help Harry when he needed.

At one o' clock, a bell rang and William informed him that it was time for lunch. They went down to the dining room, where Harry was rather bemused to see that the tables were not divided by House, but by gender. The boys sat at one table, and the girls at another.

"Why do the girls and boys sit apart from each other?" He asked William, when they'd sat down. William gave him a rather scornful look before answering.

"We don't mix much," he said eventually, "in fact, about the only time we're allowed together is during class. The girls have separate common rooms too."

Harry frowned, finding that a little odd, but didn't say anything as he munched on his ham sandwich.

The rest of the day went by in a blur, with Sam, William and Anthony showing him the Arden boys' common room, the Sixth Form classroom, the gym and the swimming pool. He barely saw the others at all for the rest of the day, and when he did it was only in passing.

The evening was spent in the common room, where games of marbles were played by the younger pupils, whilst the older ones listening to a play on the wireless. The bedtime bell rang at nine o' clock, which Harry thought was ridiculously early, but he followed the others to the dormitory and settled down onto the hard mattress, and eventually drifted off to sleep.

&&&

Harry didn't get a chance to talk to his friends until just before the first class the following day. As new pupils, they had to wait until all of the older ones had 'bagsied' a desk, and luckily, the last four desks happened to be together.

There were a few minutes until the teacher was due to arrive, and whilst a few conscientious members of the form sat in silence, most of the others chatted with their friends.

"How are you getting on?" Hermione asked, "Most of the girls in my dormy are pleasant enough but there are a couple of really catty ones. I feel quite settled though, it's not all that different from Hogwarts."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, "I didn't really talk to any of the boys in my dorm though. They seemed to want to keep themselves to themselves. It's a pity we weren't all put together in the same house."

"How are we going to look for the you-know-what if the only time we can see each other is during class?" Harry asked, "The others in my dorm said that the boys and girls almost never mix."

"It could be a problem," Hermione said, "but Kathleen in my dorm told me that the rules are a little more relaxed over the weekend. Mr Darlington - that's the headmaster - goes away every weekend so the pupils have more freedom."

"That's good," Ginny started to say, but there was a sudden frantic shushing, and scraping of chairs as everyone leapt to their feet. There were whispers of "Reynolds is coming", and in the silence that fell, the click-clack of heeled shoes could be heard.

The teacher swept into the room and stood at the front of the class, before nodding at the pupils, which was apparently the cue to sit down. The morning was spent handing out exercise books, pencils, rubbers and the like. A Form Prefect was chosen, and classroom duties were shared out.

Harry found it quite strange; the format of the class was so different to the way things were done at Hogwarts, yet the atmosphere of boarding school was very much the same.

When the bell rang for lunch at one o' clock, Harry copied the other pupils by storing everything neatly into his desk, and followed the crowd towards the dining room. Hermione seemed to be in her element, and Harry was sure he heard her whisper to Ginny that "it was just like being in an Enid Blyton novel".

Harry couldn't help feeling a little frustrated though. The rules were so strict, the timetable so inflexible…how were they going to find time to search for the Horcrux? They only had five days, and they were on the second day already. Like in the 1800's, finding the Horcrux seemed an impossible task.

Harry spent the lunch hour listening to William and Anthony share tales of the various teachers.

"Mam'zelle's a brick, she really is," William said, through a mouthful of lamb stew, "but she's got a nasty temper if you get on the wrong side of her. Mr Jameson is the games teacher, absolutely fanatical about cricket and swimming, not so keen on lacrosse, and let me tell you, that makes the girls angry. Now, Miss Jordan, she teaches history…"

Harry tuned out as William continued to talk about the teachers, and looked around the small dining room, once again marvelling at the small number of pupils. There only seemed to be around one hundred all together, and compared to the thousand or so that attended Hogwarts, it seemed very tiny indeed.

It was during the afternoon that it became apparent they had a slight problem. The first lesson of the afternoon was French with Mam'zelle, and at first, everything seemed to go well. She introduced herself, and handed out a textbook to each pupil, before assuming her position in front of the blackboard.

"And now, we will begin with the French verbs. Perhaps one of our new pupils will share their knowledge of _vouloir_? Mr Patterson, if you could conjugate vouloir for us please, in the _présent_, _passé simple _et _passé composé_."

It took Harry a few moments to remember that _he_ was Harry Patterson, and then another moment to realise that he understood nothing of what Mam'zelle had said.

"I'm sorry, Mam'zelle, could you repeat that please?"

Mam'zelle heaved a sigh and lifted her eyes to the ceiling. "These new boys, always playing the fool. I would like you to conjugate _vouloir_ into the _présent, passé simple _and _passé composé_."

Harry felt his cheeks growing red as the class waited in silence for him to do what Mam'zelle had asked. But he knew nothing about French.

"Well, Mr Patterson?" Mam'zelle said sharply, after a minute or so had passed, "Have you lost your voice?"

"I'm sorry, Mam'zelle," Harry replied, feeling incredibly stupid, "but I don't know the answer. We didn't do much French at my old school."

"What is this! A school that does not teach its pupils how to conjugate the French verbs? _Alors!_"

She looked around the class, her eyes finally settling on a ruddy-cheeked girl in the front row. "Mary, perhaps you can conjugate the verb for us, _non_?"

"Yes, Mam'zelle," the girl replied, and began to reel off the answers the French teacher desired, "_Je veux, tu veux, il veut_…"

Harry tuned her out and shared a worried glance with Ron at his side. If all the classes were like this, would they even survive five days here?

&&&

A/N: Most of my knowledge of 1940's boarding schools comes from Enid Blyton books, and so I'm sorry if anything seems inaccurate or clichéd. I admit that I did re-read a couple of Malory Towers before writing this chapter! Please review!


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